


This World Will See You Through

by Flick (raynon)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)
Genre: Drug reference, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Very loose references to self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynon/pseuds/Flick
Summary: Jet Star scavenges more than he expected.
Relationships: Jet Star/Fun Ghoul
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	This World Will See You Through

**Author's Note:**

> me? having multiple backstories for characters??? more likely than you think
> 
> this one's based on a verse with [ophelias_ink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537691), this is written from jet's perspective so he takes care of ghoul before learning his pronouns, ergo, ghoul is gender neutral here :)
> 
> title from till we're gone by electric century

The sky was still a hazy citrine and lilac when Jet Star took off through Zone 6. He wasn’t sure where he was going today, letting the Witch guide him to where he needed to be. He figured he’d try to find a Dead Pegasus first, at least, since he was below a quarter tank, and he wanted breakfast. Leaning forward, he tried to keep his sights set on memorable landmarks so he wouldn’t forget his way.

And then something glinted to the west. Something so bright, it managed to even make the corner of his eye ache through his visor. So either it was something from BLind, or something worth checking out. Perhaps it was something worth checking out that BLind abandoned, which, double bonus. Before he got too far away, he turned his bike and rode closer.

It certainly wasn’t what he expected it to be, but he didn’t give up just yet. He nudged his kickstand out with his boot and turned the engine off in front of a car that looked like it lost a fight to a Saguaro. Its frame, strangely chromatic, which explained the shine, was partially hugged around the cactus. It wasn’t anything Jet would be able to fix, nor was it the thing that piqued his interest the most.

No, that belonged to the singular combat boot sticking out behind the back tire. Jet crouched down beside it to pick up, maybe the Witch figured he’d needed a new pair, but the boot was a lot heavier than he expected. Turns out that someone else was still wearing it. Jet flinched at first, then dropped down on his stomach to look under the car completely.

There was a body. Arm crossed over their chest with a knitted sweater riddled with so many holes that Jet sure the thing was useless against the desert nights and the other leg attempted to draw up to their stomach, but perhaps they just lost the energy. A purple mask covered the head fully, giving them a frightening hypoxic look to them.

Jet squinted. “Uh, hey--” he started off, and slowly reached out to nudge the body. “You alive?”

They didn’t move, but there was still a sliver of warmth.

Jet bit his tongue and grabbed at the arms, and ever so cautiously pulled the body out. “I’m really sorry about this, but I don’t want you suffocating.” It was sinful to pull off a runner’s mask without their permission, after all, but some sacrifices had to be made to save lives sometimes. He pulled the mask up over their nose, at the very least, leaving the eyes covered as he checked the pulse. Faint and slow, but present. The veins in their hands and wrists were bulging, and  _ holy fuck, _ there were so many tattoos. Jet couldn’t help but wonder just where this guy’s been, because the ink just kept  _ going. _

He could worry about that later. For now, he sat the body up in his lap, their back against his chest, and he untwisted the cap of his water bottle to gently tip it past their lips. It was a strange relief to hear them cough. Jet took it slow, making sure they actually drank before setting the bottle back down and rubbing their back. “There you go, is that better?”

They didn’t respond; just slouched back against Jet’s chest with their head lolled back on his shoulder. Their chest rose and fell slowly and unsteadily, mouth hung open.

“Hey,” Jet whispered. “C’mon, I can help take you somewhere safe. The shade can only protect you so much from the heat.”

Their breath hitched, and they seemed to flinch a little more into life. They pulled the mask off their head fully and a mop of shaggy black hair nested on their head. Jet didn’t have enough time to look at their face before they were turning around and throwing their arms around him with a pathetic whine. “It hurts--”

Jet’s hands hung in front of him in shock, suddenly afraid to touch like he’d make the pain worse. “What hurts?”

They smelled like death was close, like dust and acrid sweat. “Everything.”

“I’m Jet Star.” He took a deep breath, hesitantly touching their waist. “Do you think you’re gonna pass out again?” Without a clear answer from the other, he took the risk anyway and picked them up, placing them in front of him on his bike. He stuffed the purple mask in a side pouch before taking off again. Looks like he’d have to skip on breakfast this morning.

Jet parked outside Tommy’s and carried his new patient in. Cautiously, he’d placed the mask back on them for now, and approached the counter. “Morning, Tommy.”

“Thirty carbons,” Tommy responded flatly, and popped a bubble of gum.

“My hands are a little full at the moment, can you just put it on my tab?” Jet shrugged. “You know I’m good for it, I dunno how much time they got left, so I’m kind of on the clock.”

“It’s an extra twenty if they die.” Tommy seemed almost inconvenienced to grab for his keys, stand up from his stool, and walk over to a door in the back and unlock it.

Jet was sort of relieved Tommy couldn’t see him roll his eyes, but he hurried through the open door, up a flight of stairs, and nudged the first cracked door in the hallway. It was a closet-sized room with just a neatly-made bed and a dresser. The window was broken at the top, but Jet didn’t have time to worry about that. He set his patient down carefully, and pulled the mask back off.

They groaned again, back arching in tension.

“It’s okay, I’m gonna make you feel better.” He turned and opened the top drawer of the dresser, and pulled out an IV bag full of saline. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed their chest in slow circles. “Can you answer a few questions for me? Do you know what color this is?” He pointed to the mask.

They struggled, then, and choked out a dry sob.

“Okay, okay.” Before they could prepare the needle, he froze. A hand gently pulled up at his helmet. His initial reaction was to resist, but fair was fair. He pulled the helmet off and set it on the floor, shaking out his muted brown cloud of hair. “I’m gonna need you to keep as still as you can for me, is that alright?” At least it was easier to see what he was doing this way. He pulled off what remained of the sweater, and tried very hard not to gawp at the full sight of all the ink. He had to get him on this IV, so he found the vein in the inner elbow and stuck it in.

Thankfully, and at the same time maybe not so much, they didn’t even seem to notice, just staring blankly at the wall.

“You got a name?” Jet asked, lightly pulling up an eyelid. The pupils were reactive to light, at the very least, but he assumed there was some sort of BLind drug in their system. “Hey, you still with me?”

They grabbed his hand weakly, and muttered just one word. Jet could barely make it out, and it made his stomach drop a little that they’d give up a name like that so carelessly. They definitely weren’t fresh out of the city, not looking like that. It had to be the drugs, Jet assumed, and let them fall asleep for the time being. He knew he’d have to deal with helping them through withdrawals in the oncoming week, maybe even longer.

Jet’s day was full of keeping his patient hydrated, and making sure they had some food in their system, even if they couldn’t seem to keep most of it down. Between paying off what he owed Tommy, keeping the room clean, and keeping them warm, Jet found himself exhausted before sunset came around. At least they stabilized when he found himself falling asleep on the floor.

When his eyes opened again, he jumped at the feel of something on his arm.

“Oh, sorry.” The patient was awake, legs folded up and hunched over with Jet’s arm gently in their cold, ashy hands. “I was just, uh...you got a lot of battlescars.” Their thumbs gently brushed over one of the many horizontal lines.

Jet pulled his arm back harder than he expected. Flashes of memories shot through his vision, trying to get the suppressants out of his system as quickly as he could. A time before he was Jet Star. “Yeah,” he muttered, and sat up. “How are you feeling?”

Regret washed over their pallid expression, and they hugged themself. “I’m sorry--” he croaked.

Jet sighed and pulled his jacket back on, and slid in a little closer to them. “It’s fine, I’m not mad. How are you feeling?” he repeated softer.

“Heavy,” they answered, smiling in exhaustion. “Oh. I’m, uh, Fun Ghoul. I just saw you on the floor and I got worried. Thanks for...” They stammered softly, picking at their nails. “...for dragging me outta my grave, I guess.”

Jet smiled back at them. “Yeah, it’s kinda what I do. I use this room as...well, the world’s tiniest hospital, to put it lightly.”

“I owe you big time.” Ghoul crawled into his lap, taking him by surprise.

“Oh-- hey, uh--” Jet gently patted their back and helped them up for a moment. “It’s best if you just get back into bed, alright?”

“Stay close?” Ghoul whined. “You’re so warm.”

Je’s brow knotted. It was gonna get cold again soon with the impending night, and he couldn’t stand to see Ghoul so frail and helpless again. “Yeah, Fun. I’m not gonna leave you.” He shed his jacket to wrap around them before pulling blankets over both their bodies. “I got you.” Something sparked in his chest, like a machine being switched on after years of stagnation, and he only hugged them tighter. “I got you,” he repeated, and watched over them through the night.


End file.
